Crash Ride (16 page)

“Dan, I need you to focus.” I grabbed him by the shirt and leveled him with a stare. My heart thumping like the fucker was keeping time to Metallica. “Are you sure that’s what she said?”

“Lay off asshole, fuck.” He pushed off my hands and straightened his shirt. “Yes, that’s what she said. What’s the big deal?”

The big deal was that last I saw of Megs she was upset and needed to be held. I didn’t know the why’s or the what’s, but shit wasn’t right. I’d asked her not to go home with the asshole she’d walked with, but she left anyway. His fucking hands on her as they walked out. She didn’t fight him so I assumed any further attention was going to come courtesy of the guy who kept calling her
baby
. They didn’t look like they were heading for splitsville.

“When we saw them, they didn’t look like they were about to break up.” I was still trying to wrap my head around it.

“Well maybe after you saw them they got into a fight or maybe the kid found Jesus and was no longer interested in pussy? Whatever the reason, they ain’t together anymore.” Dan clapped his hands together and rubbed in anticipation. “Now let’s talk AC.”

There was no way I was getting in a car and going anywhere right now unless it was to Megs’s apartment. I didn’t give a fuck if I had to bang her damn door down, she was going to talk to me and tell me why she’d been so sad, and then I would tell her that this bullshit about keeping away from each other was just that—bullshit.

“Yeah, that trip ain’t happening.” I needed to see her. “Dan, you’re right. I need to go make this right.”

“Oh fuck, man. I was looking forward to taking down the house.” Dan whined like it was an actual possibility. Poor fucker didn’t stand a chance at a legit casino.

“Please go home before you hurt yourself. I have genuine fear for you, brother.” It was bewildering to me how he had managed to skate through life without doing jail time.

“With pleasure.” Dan smirked before flipping us off. “Unlike you two morons, I have an amazing woman to go home to.”

Dan headed to my door and I followed him out. The clock was ticking and I was still pissed I was standing in my apartment and not on my way to her.

Dan stopped in my doorway. “Troy, smooth over whatever needs smoothing. I don’t want to have to punch you in the sack ’cause Megs won’t talk to you at the wedding.”

That wouldn’t be happening. Her and me, we were going to work this shit out, and she was not going to be dating or kissing any other douchebags. Nope. I was done sitting back and pretending that what we were doing made sense. Whatever the chances were, I’d be taking them, and short of her telling me she felt nothing, I wouldn’t be walking away, any time soon.

Maybe I was a cocky son of bitch, but I had zero hesitation in looking at Dan and telling him, “I’ve got this.”

What time was it?
My eyes slowly opened to sunlight burning my retinas. Like a dumbass, I’d forgotten to close my drapes last night before I’d collapsed into bed. It was too early and I had no reason to be awake. Ugh. I needed coffee.

Josh had driven me home, given me sweet kiss on the cheek and then said goodbye. He even waited until I was safely inside my apartment before leaving. He wasn’t even weird about. I hoped this didn’t mean the next guy I dated was an asshole, not that I would be dating anyone anytime soon.

Rather than going to bed like a
normal
person and trying to forget my horrible night, I instead voted to stay up watching cheesy RomCom reruns. With a box of Kleenex and obviously no common sense, I watched as time after time the hero found his way to his heroine and they walked off into the sunset together. It was enough to make me want to hurl my snotty, scrunched up tissues at the screen. But instead of doing that—which would have been totally reasonable— I just sat there and watched another. The definition of insanity is repeating the same action and expecting a different result. I was clearly insane.

Damn it. I tried to squeeze my eyelids shut and hoped to ignore the happy beams of light that danced on my comforter. Assholes, I didn’t want to be awake, and I sure as hell didn’t want to be happy. Yet, ironically, my eyes were wide open and I didn’t feel so bad. Maybe it was a new day’s perspective or maybe my fatigued brain was giving me a reprieve, whatever the reason, I was grabbing onto it.

Ugh, my legs kicked off the covers —it was too hot. Wordless pictures played on the television, the same screen that had tormented me. While I had been smart enough to mute the stupid thing, I hadn’t turned it off. The remote nestled within the mess of crumpled tissues —the graveyard of fallen tears on my bedside table. Tragic.

The buzzer from my front door demanded attention; the relenting sound meant my fantasy of staying in bed was not going to happen— my second disappointment for the day.

I assumed it was Ash. She had wanted to come over last night after I called her. No amount of telling her it was unnecessary would appease her. I was just glad she waited until the morning, letting me have my pity party undisturbed. Hopefully she had a really big coffee and maybe a muffin.

Reluctantly, I swung my legs off the mattress. My feet hit the floor heavily as my hands scrubbed my face. I tried to not imagine what I looked like. Nightmare came to mind. Or possibly, one of those scary zombie walking dead dolls. Ash was going to have to overlook my bad hair day and my puffy eyes.

Slowly I trudged to the door, the buzzer continuing to sound. Geez, Ash, give me a minute. My finger hit the release on the lower external entry and I cracked open my front door, waiting for her inevitable arrival. I really hope she brought that coffee, I needed the caffeine hit like no other.

The sounds of footsteps echoed up the staircase, my door flew open to reveal… Troy Harris? Huh? My head couldn’t reconcile what I seeing.

“Troy? What are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he kissed me.
Really
kissed me. Like those stupid, sappy movies I’d watched, he wrapped his arms around me and he lifted me off the floor. His mouth was on mine like he needed me to breathe.

I didn’t care I hadn’t brushed my teeth or that I looked like shit, none of it got any airtime. I wanted the kiss to last forever, for him to hold me with the desperation that he was…forever.

“You’ve been crying.” He peeled his lips from mine and lifted my chin to look at me. “Did that asshole hurt you?”

“He wasn’t an asshole, and no, he didn’t hurt me.” Josh had been far from being an asshole. He should have hated me for using him as my rebound guy but instead had been sweet and kind. I shook my head and repeated. “He didn’t hurt me.”

“Did I hurt you?” Troy’s finger trailed against the edge of my jaw.

“I hurt myself.” I shrugged. “You did nothing wrong.” He hadn’t. He had just followed my fucked up diagram on how to screw up a friendship, relationship, whatever it was. I still have no idea what we actually were.

“That’s bullshit. I did plenty wrong.” He lowered his lips and kissed me on the mouth again. I guessed that was the end of the conversation and as long as he kept kissing me, I didn’t care.

Troy’s hands threaded through my hair, his fingers tangled in the messy waves as the kiss intensified. He moved his hands down my neck and then across my shoulders like he was trying to remember me by touch. It was erotic and sensual and sweet baby Jesus— it was really turning me on.

While my mind was currently being dictated by the throbbing need between my legs, it had occurred to me in a small window of clarity that we were standing in the entranceway of my apartment with my front door
wide
open.

That would
not
do. I pulled him closer and kicked the door closed, the wooden doorframe shaking under the force of it being slammed shut. Troy responded by pushing me back into my living room, my feet doing their best not to trip over my rug.

We should probably have moved to the bedroom—that would have been the smart thing to do— but we had already established that when it came to sex, Troy and I weren’t very smart. So rather than fight it, I gave in as we tumbled onto my large sofa.

Our bodies were pressed together as we clawed at each other, our mouths too preoccupied with kissing to be worried about something as silly as words. I didn’t want to speak. Not at that moment anyway.

I’m not sure how it happened but I pulled off his T-shirt. One minute I was grabbing at the soft cotton fabric, bunching it in my hands and the next minute it was off his chest and on the floor. It seemed like a better place for it.

He seemed to have the same idea, with my thin cotton tank top magically being pulled over my head and disappearing over the back of the couch. His hands moved to my naked breasts, he grunted in appreciation over my lack of a bra. It also meant less to take off, which was another plus.

Troy laid back across the cushions of the sofa and pulled me with him. His hands alternated between rolling my nipples between his fingers to palming my breasts.

I wiggled on top of him as my hands moved down his chest, my fingertips feeling each curve and ripple of his defined torso. The bulge in his pants got harder as I straddled him and rocked against it.

His hands left my body and I whimpered a protest but was quickly pacified when I saw they were getting busying unzipping his fly and pulling down his jeans. Ok, then. He toed off his shoes and reached down to yank off his socks, my body rocking against his erection while he tried to undress himself underneath me.

He had only managed to maneuver his jeans half way down his thighs when he’d lost his patience, lifting me off his hard cock and moving me to the other cushion of the couch. The jeans that had been giving him so much trouble were kicked off violently as I watched beside him. His boxers, they were the next to go—a casualty in our desperation to get naked.

“Get them off,” he growled as he tugged at my sleep shorts. My clothing, the next victim, his attention focused on getting me as naked as he was.

His body was so toned and defined; the way his muscles flexed when he moved made him look lethal. The tattoos that covered his chest and arms enhanced an already spectacular view.

“Megs?” He stopped the desperate tugging of my shorts as my feather tattoos came into view. His finger gently traced the delicate outline. “When did you get these?”

The confusion in his eyes was an easy read. Skin that had previously been bare had two small but delicate feathers marking it. “A couple of days after we last…”

“Why?”

“Because I thought we’d never have this again.” The emotion was thick in my throat as I tried not to cry. “I needed the memory. When I was with you it felt like feathers in the wind. Crazy, flying out of control—exhilarating. But when it stopped— when we stopped, they floated away. It was the only way I could get them back.”

“Fuck.” He cradled me, running his hand over my skin. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful and I’ve never seen anything more perfect.”

“Troy Harris.” My lips gently kissed his chest.

“Yeah?” His hands played with my hair.

“I don’t want to talk anymore about things that make me sad. I’m still wearing pants and you’re naked. You want to do something about that or—” I didn’t get the chance to finish.

Hands, fingers, lips and a tangle of limbs, he pressed his body back to mine. My sleep shorts and panties quickly left my body and joined the pile of discarded clothing. I wasn’t sure if it had been by my hand or his, but I was thankful we were now skin on skin.

The head of his cock teased at my opening as I wiggled beneath him, it felt amazing as I arched my back using friction to rub against me. The mental piercing hit me in just the right spot.

“Easy,” he warned as he reached down in between my legs and thumbed circles around my clit. “I’m not suited up yet.”

“I can’t wait.” I bucked against him, wanting to be filled with him. It felt like I had been waiting for an eternity. “I want you in me.”

His jaw tensed as he lifted off me, his eyes raking up and down my body as he fished for jeans on the floor. I couldn’t look away, the shine of the metal in his cock catching the sunlight each time he moved.

Success, he held up the small foil packet with his fingers that he’d dug out of his jeans pocket and all I could think of was that shinny ring that I wanted so desperately inside of me. I couldn’t wait. Moving across to him I placed my lips around the head of his cock, my mouth closed around him and I flicked my tongue along the length. “Megs,” he hissed out as his hand went around my head, his body thrusting with each and every suck I gave him.

My teeth pulled gently against the ring and I saw his eyes roll back from pleasure, the throbbing between my legs almost unbearable.

His fingers wrapped around his cock and pulled it from my lips, his grip travelling along his length as I watched him rip open the condom wrapper with his teeth and the slide it out with his fingers. It was mesmerizing as he quickly went to work, the piercing carefully encased in the latex before it rolled down the rest of his cock.

And then, in one thrust he was in me. Yep, just that quickly. One minute I’m sitting down watching him stroke himself, and then the next minute, I’m on my back. It was hard and fast and my body tightened around him. Had it always been this good?

“Troy,” I moaned, my head flying back in ecstasy as my body welcomed the invasion. “I need you.” And I meant it. I needed him in every sense of the word and I didn’t want this to ever stop.

“You’ve got me.” His hands found my hips as he moved in and out of me with long, deliberate thrusts. “You’ve got me,” he repeated, getting deeper with each time.

It wasn’t going to take long, the anticipation had worked me up into a state that was making me feel crazy. I wanted this, wanted him, so badly that I hadn’t even explored what this meant. Had we returned back to the let’s-have-sex-but-not-date or was this something else? At that moment, I didn’t care.

Our bodies crashed into each other, his thrust countered by mine. The movements of the frenzied pace getting me so close that I teetered on the edge of bliss.

“Touch yourself. I want to see you play with yourself with my cock in you.” He groaned as he bit down on his lip.

I reached down to the slickness between my legs, twisting my fingers over my clit as I exploded around him. Tingles travelled up and down my arms and legs as the wave of my orgasm rode out. One more thrust was all it took, his cock pulsing inside of me as he came hard.

He collapsed against me, panting as his heavy body almost crushed me beneath him. I loved it, the heat and his weight on me. It felt real, tangible. Raw. It’s what I needed.

Troy’s arms covered me, wrapping around my body as he shifted to the side. His large frame wedged between the back of the couch and my body. Our legs intertwined at the knees.

It was at around that point that my post-coital buzz started to dissipate, and my common sense kicked in. I had slept with Troy again. After I had promised myself I wouldn’t do this anymore.

Did I have any self-control? Like, at all?

Troy’s lips tenderly kissed my neck and in a moment of braveness —or possibly fear— I asked what I had never had the courage to ask before. “So… where does that leave us?”